The idiot's guide to Love
by Killing Kathy
Summary: Ivan finds a love guide. Enthralled by the many mysteries of that emotion, he sets out in determination to find someone to "love." And little does Alfred know what's going to happen. RussiaXAmerica


**The ****Idiot**** Revised Guide to Love **

When Ivan finds Toris, he is in the living room, eyebrows furrowed and bent over a book in his lap that looked suspiciously new.

Because Toris always told him if he got a new book, right?

They were friends, right? Right?!

"Toris!" The small boy practically jumps three feet in the air, just barely stifling a shriek.

"O-Oh. Russia-san."

"Don't call me Russia!" Ivan smiles, which only makes Toris shiver harder. "Call me Ivan! We're friends, da? _Da?_"

"Y-Yes. I-Ivan." He adds hastily after seeing his raised eyebrows.

"So." Ivan points a gloved hand at the book. "What are you reading?"

To his surprise, Toris _blushes_, then stars shuffling away along the padded couch, a nervous look on his face. "I-It's nothing."

Ivan frowns, a tightening of eyebrows and wider eyes. "Let me see, Toris! You trust me, da?"

"E-Eh? Yeah.." Toris tries in vain to smile, edge of his frozen mouth twitching.

Ivan takes that opportunity to pry the book from Toris's immobile hands, not even noticing as the boy rushes out of the room, slamming the door on his way out.

"The revised guide to love." Ivan reads out loud to the empty room. "By Francis Bonnefoy."

The pages are unbent and white, but Ivan ruins that, hastily ripping the first page in his hurry to see the inside. He fixes the ruined page with masking tape, which is harsh and yellow against the ivory, but Ivan pats it down so carefully that anyone watching him would think that he was the kindest soul in the world. "Da." He says with a finality.

_What is love? _The book started out. _And you may be wondering to yourself, Why do I need to love? Why is love good?_

Ivan hums a horribly off-tune song, purple eyes brightening in curiosity.

_Well, I'm here to tell you! _Here the book emitted a suspicious aura of smugness, but Ivan passed that off as the author's writing tone.

_Love makes you feel warm inside, like sipping hot chocolate in winter _

"I like hot chocolate." Ivan smiles to himself, fingering his scarf.

_Love makes you feel like a sunflower reaching towards the sun, seeking the bright light. _

"Sunflowers!" He exclaims in delight.

_Love is everything you could possibly want in the world, and it __**unites hearts together, and **_

_**Never lets them go. **_

"….I want love!" Ivan muses, staring up towards the ceiling, which had just kindly decided to shake some dust loose onto his sweater.

_If you want love, I'm here to help!_

The book was really sounding superior now.

_There are rules in here that if you follow, you'll absolutely be successful! _

_But first!_

_Take a step back, and think! _

Ivan gets off the couch and takes a step back, crashing into a lamp.

_Do you have anyone to love?! _

"….No." Ivan mumbles, looking at the shattered remains of the lamp.

_Well, find someone! _

"Who?" Ivan says, pacing around the room. "Who?"

_A word of advice-if you are a novice at love, and not a experienced one (like me, may I gracefully add) Idiots are the easiest to come by, and are more willing to succumb to love. _

"An idiot…" He purses his mouth in concentration.

Suddenly, his eyes light up. "America!"

America.

The country known for fast food,

Blond girls,

The heat,

And most of all,

Idiots.

Idiots upon idiots upon idiots.

"I've got it!" Ivan nods in satisfaction. "I just have to get America to fall in love with me and become one! Da? _Da?!_" He says to the book, shaking it.

_Now, if you have chosen your idiot, or lover, then let us proceed. _

_Number one rule! _

_**Never let your love interest show affection to anyone else! If they do, that means that they're going to fall in love with someone else! **_

_**Do you want someone to get that affection?**_

_**That warmth? **_

_**Those sunflowers? **_

"No!" Ivan practically screams, horrified at the fact of someone else getting his precious flowers. _** Go to your love interest, and compliment them. **_

Ivan nods to himself, tucking the book in his jacket pocket-Toris would let him borrow it, right?

And heading out the door.

The first person that he sees on the streets is Feliciano, strolling along with a smile on his face.

"Feliciano!" He calls, running over to the boy.

"Russia-san!" Feliciano dreamily says, half-heartedly waving a hand.

"Do you know where America is?" Ivan's eyes are close to Feliciano's face, making him scoot back a little bit.

"I think that he went to England's house today.." He whimpers softly, hands reaching behind his back and gripping the miniature white flag he always carried around with him.

"Thank you!" Ivan says cheerfully, giving him a hearty pat on the back.

That pat sent Feliciano reeling into the street, crashing into a bush.

But Ivan didn't see, because he was too busy completing his mental checklist.

Go to England's house.

Go to America.

Compliment him.

Fall in love.

This would be easy.

England's house is open as usual, a warm whiff of tea and hamburgers drifting from the ajar window.

Ivan bangs down the door, hurrying into the lit house.

Arthur yelps upon seeing him, hot tea spilling onto his new jacket, and he briefly wonders if he offered Russia everything in his will, would he leave him alone?

…No.

But to his surprise, Russia completely ignores Arthur, stalking off instead to the kitchen, where the smell of cooking hamburgers is particularly potent.

Alfred is flipping a piece of bacon in the pan, a heaping plate of lettuce and beef set out beside him. The apron he was wearing was spotted blue, with a small penguin placed on the crotch.

….Americans really were queer at some times.

But the first thing Ivan does when he sees Alfred is to practically shout in his face-_"I like your apron!" _

But all Alfred does is hum, fingers still mindlessly flipping bacon that wasn't there anymore.

And that was when Ivan realized that small black ear buds were in his ears, and the music blasting from them was loud enough so that Ivan could hear it clearly.

_Tell me what you want what you really really want!_

_I'll tell you what I want what I really really want!_

_What I really really want is-_

"To go to Comic-con!" Alfred screams, waving his arms and smacking Ivan in the face.

"All those cosplayers and voice actors and signings and comics!"

And Ivan thinks that he can see a tear starting to form on his face.

This time he yanks the ear buds out and whispers in his ear,

"I like your apron."

Alfred screams.

He runs out of the kitchen, and into Arthur, who is still trying to clean the tea stain off his jacket. "Artieeeeeeee!" He sobs, clutching the other tightly.

"I think there's a ghost haunting me! Aritie! _Artie!_"

But all Arthur can do is stare in horror at the menacing figure behind Alfred, who is currently sending him a death glare.

"…Don't hurt me." Is all Arthur can whimper.

Moments later, Arthur is tied up on a stool, and Ivan is sitting down across the couch from Alfred, who is trembling and opening his mouth to make words that wouldn't come.

"I'll-I'll save you, Artie!" Is all he can say.

"Idiot!" Arthur cursed. "You can't even save yourself!"

Alfred twists his lips, sneaking a peek at the looming man who was still staring at him.

"…yes?"

"I like your apron." Ivan smiles, eyes closing.

Alfred thinks that the expression he was making looked like he had murdered a thousand babies and ate them slowly, one by one.

"…Thank you?" The American asks back, hand discreetly covering the penguin.

"I like you cooking."

And this time Alfred grins in triumph, shooting a glance at the tied-up Arthur. "See, Artie! People _do _like my cooking!"

"No, No." Ivan grins. "I like _you _cooking."

"oh." Alfred freezes, mind quickly conjuring up the safest way to escape the house. Jump out of a window.

That's always what people did in those movies, wasn't it?

"…That's lovely." He adds as an awkward after-sentence.

"I like your glasses."

"Thank you!" Alfred shakily smiles. "I got them from Mexico!"

"I like your voice."

"…..Oh." Alfred doesn't say anything else after that, just watching Ivan perplexedly as the other counts off numbers on his fingers.  
"One…Two…Three compliments." He nods in satisfaction to himself. "That should be enough, da?"

He gets up and leaves, waving a cheerful goodbye to England and America casually walking out the door like nothing had happened. Arthur gaps after him, eyebrows looking like caterpillars more than usual. "What the bloody frick was that?!"

"….." Alfred can't say anything, just quickly walking over and untying Arthur. "…Hey. We're alive. And that's all that matters." His eyes sparkle with overexaggerated tears, and Arthur rolls his eyes, snorting. "Over the top bastard."

"Hey! American movies are good quality, you know!"

"Explain, then, why so many British shows are popular there."

"Like?" America smirks at him in triumph. "I bet you can't think of anything!"

"Doctor Who, Top Gear, and maybe Merlin." Arthur ticks off on his hands.

"Merlin got canceled!" Alfred whines. "Just when it was getting good!"

"…See? Even you're complaining."

"…You wanna go to my place and play Legend of Zelda?"

"…Sure."

**The next day**

Russia stretches and yawns, rubbing his head. The love book is still sitting on the counter where he left it.

He finished reading the first chapter yesterday, and from then on resolved to read one chapter per day.

_Now that you should be a little more familiar with your love interest, lets move onto step two. _

_Call them, and ask them if they want to hang out. _

_This will be a date. _

_Play hangman or something, anything that keeps them entertained, really. _

Ivan nods enthusiastically, already reaching for his phone.

He calls the operator and cheerfully asks for Alfred Jones, and she puts him through, giggling about what a nice boy he was.

After a long dial tone, Alfred finally answers, voice grumpy and fogged from the lack of sleep.

"What?!" Even though he was talking to Ivan-the feared Russian, sleep was more important than anything at that moment.

"I was wondering if you wanted to play Hang the…man." Ivan pauses in the middle of the words, looking back at the book for more reference.

There is a long beat of silence, in which Ivan thinks that Alfred might have hung up, when the words-"I'm sorry, I'm busy," come, curt and clear without any hint of sleepiness.

"…With what?" Ivan asks, still smiling.

"..Kiku's throwing his first party and I have to be there to help." Now there is a more cheerful tone in his voice. "That boy is finally blossoming!"

"Then I'll see you there, da?" and with that, Ivan hangs up, already planning his entrance.

"Eh? EH!?" Alfred shrieks in disbelief, staring at his phone. "No way-he can't think about-ugh."  
He puts his head on his knees, teddy pajamas wrinkling.

"What have I done now?"

The first thing Ivan does when he gets dressed is to go to Kiku's house, bringing a batch of sunflowers along with him. He politely taps on the door, and when there is no answer, he enters anyway, nearly knocking his head on the wooden doorway.

He looks up to see Kiku standing in the kitchen, a half-eaten piece of bread in his mouth, and a sesame sprinkled bun in his hand. "Good morning, Kiku-san!" He cheerfully announces, smiling wide.

Kiku hastily gulps down his bread, coughing as it went down the wrong pipe. Ivan's eyes widen in concern, and he quickly goes to him, helping the other man by wrapping his arms around his waist and doing the choking maneuver.

Kiku is frozen to the spot, sesame bun falling to the floor. With a hacking cough, the bread rights itself, and Ivan lets go of the other boy cheerfully, watching Kiku fall to the floor and clutch his sesame bun like it was his life.

"Kiku-san, so I heard that you were throwing a party today, da?" He asked, tugging on the end of his scarf.

"E-Eh? Oh…yeah." Kiku quickly agrees, nodding his head. _How did Russia know about that, anyway? _

"I didn't get an invitation." Here Russia's lips trembled. "Are you not inviting me? I thought we were friends, da?" He wrapped his scarf around him tighter, even though it was burning hot outside.

"Right! Right." Kiku nodded quickly to himself. "See, I haven't sent out invitations yet-" _What if the person who he talked to got an invitation already? _

"So you might not have received one because of that." Kiku smiles nervously.

"That makes sense!" Ivan exclaims in surprise. "So, you are going to invite me now, da? _Da?_"

"Of course!" Kiku says hastily, running a hand through his mussed hair. "Come at five P.M, and….anything is welcome." He added as an afterthought.

Kiku found himself enfolded in a gigantic hug from Ivan, who was smothering him.

He couldn't breathe. "Hey, Russia-san-"

"We really are friends, right?"

Kiku was suffocating. "Yes, but-"

"You're my _best _friend, da? Da?"

Ivan finally releases Kiku, who falls to the floor. He walks out the room without a single backwards look, laying the sunflowers on the table as an offering.

_Now that you have gotten perhaps-even a bit closer, now is the time to close in. _

_Corner your lover and confess to him or her. _

_If you're scared, the best way to say this is-_

"_FUCK YOU I KNOW YOU LIKE ME AND I FUCKING LIKE YOU SO LETS FUCKING FUCK ALREADY." _

_That will intimidate your lover, and he or she will hastily agree. _

Russia nodded to himself, happily pocketing the book as he went off to search for a party offering, maybe in the 99 cents store.

Alfred is at Kiku's house, listening to the muffled sobs of Kiku as he holes himself up in his room.

"Kiku, are you coming out now?" He sighs, tapping on the rice screen.

"I knew that I shouldn't have tried to be social!" Kiku cries. "Every time I do that, something bad happens!"

"…You did invite Russia?"

"_You were the one who told him?!_"

Alfred waves his hand, even though Kiku can't see him. "I plead the fifth!" He cries, raising his hands in surrender.

"…He came in and tried to _strangle_ me. Is that not bad?!"

"…Maybe he was trying to hug you?"

"He tried to strangle me!" Kiku slides open the door, and Alfred sees his swollen eyes and messy hair.

"It's okay." America pats his head comfortingly. "But this is your first party, eh? You have to throw it!"

"Throw what, precisely?"

"It's this awesome American term for doing something! Like-kick the bucket! Wait-that's not right. Never mind." Alfred sheepishly grins.

Kiku raises an eyebrow, then walks past him to the kitchen. "Russia-san will probably kill me if I don't throw the party anyway…" He mutters, staring at his sink.

"That's the spirit!" Alfred thumps Kiku heartedly on the back. "It's going to be awesome, right?"

"…Sure."

When they have the party banners strung up, which Kiku protests-"Makes things look too obnoxious!" And Alfred-"What are you talking about, Kiku? It looks lovely!"

The first guests arrive.

Feliciano and Ludwig show up at the door, and Feliciano is smiling enthusiastically, while the German is desperately trying to avoid his curl that kept trying to bat him in the face.

"Hi, Kiku!" Feliciano hands the Japanese a small box, and he opens it to see a bobble headed doll of Feliciano and Lovino, both smiling.

Lovino would've died if he had seen the dolls, so Kiku quickly hides them behind his back, edging towards the pink covered table that Alfred had insisted on decorating.

Ludwig hands him a bulky package, mumbling a gruff "Hello". Kiku feels it in curiosity, and it seems to be sharp and hard, and he opens the package, even a little bit, and sees something proclaiming-

Stretcher!

Hang yourself upside down from the ceiling, and you will become taller! Success guaranteed!

Kiku's not sure if he'll ever use it, but he says a polite thank you anyway, while Ludwig goes on and on about how Japanese people are so short.

The rest of the guests arrive, one by one, and Kiku gets strange gifts from a few-

From Gilbert, a _perfume _scented lotion that Ludwig hastily snatches from his hand-

Arthur -A small music box that plays "God save the Queen" every time that Kiku opens it-

And perhaps the strangest gift of all is from Lovino and Antonio-

A tomato alter.

An alter.

For tomatoes.

Kiku inwardly decides to replace the tomato with sushi.

Greece gives him a cat pillow, which Kiku is really pleased about, despite the fact that every time he put his head on it, it would meow.

And finally, Ivan comes.

Bearing a shopping bag that says **99 **cents on it, Kiku can't help but feel a little insulted.

But when he opens it, he finds a flamboyant game, labled-

**Mario Cart-Third edition! **

Alfred quickly jumps to his side, yelling something about a rip off, but Kiku can't seem to hear, turning the game around and around in his hand and wondering why in the world Russia would give him a game when he clearly didn't have a game counsel.

"…Thank you." Kiku finally says, more out of politeness than anything else.

"I got you something else too!" Ivan chirps, shaking another bag in front of Kiku's face and almost braining him in the nose.

Kiku takes this bag gingerly, at least this was from **Target**, whatever it was.

It was a plastic sushi phone stand.

"See, see? You stand your phone on here, and it keeps it upright!" Ivan seems enthusiastic about it, so Kiku can't help but look at the figure in fascination, turning the sushi around and around in his hands, inwardly promising himself to get a phone sooner or later.

But the sushi fish really was quite cute.

A hour later or so, the party is in full swing, and Kiku, wonders upon wonders, actually finds himself having _fun_. Alfred is trying to get him to dance, but the Japanese man stubbornly resists, shaking his head. Suddenly, Ivan appears by Alfred and drags him away, and Kiku is left alone, until a familiar brown ponytail bobs into his vision. "Kiku! Kiku! Let us dance, aru!"

Alfred is bemused as Ivan drags him away from the dim of the party, into an empty hallway.

"Hey, what-"

Ivan slams him against the wall, and Alfred is quite scared now, hands reaching towards his gun and realizing that all was in his pocket was a packet of ketchup.

"FUCK YOU I KNOW YOU LIKE ME AND I FUCKING LIKE YOU SO LETS FUCKING FUCK ALREADY."

"….Excuse me?" Alfred blinks in surprise, he doesn't think that he's ever heard Ivan cuss before.

"…Um.." Ivan hastily pulls out the book, but it doesn't say anything about what to do afterwards, except for you and your lover to have "fun" "…we should have fun, da?"

"….I think I saw something out there that I have to take care of.." Alfred hastily says. "I'll be going now.." And without waiting for a reply, Alfred flees, leaving Ivan alone in the hallway.

When Alfred goes back to the party, he grabs Arthur and drags him over to the punch bowl. 'Oy! Alfred! What-"

Alfred takes the Englishman by the shoulders, looks him in the eye, and asks seriously-"Has Russia ever asked you to fuck him before?"

"What the fuck-" Arthur spits the punch that he had been drinking into Alfred's face, gaping at him in disbelief. "What possibly resorted you to asking that question?"

"I think Russia's horny for me."

"…Psh. Who would be horny for you?" Arthur's face is a mask of disbelief, getting a tissue to help wipe Alfred off.

"I can be very….seductive at times." Alfred winks, but to Arthur, it just looks like he had a prominent eye twitching disorder. "…Don't even.." He sighed, throwing the soaked tissue a Alfred.

"Enjoy life, have fun!" Alfred calls after him, but Arthur doesn't reply, waving a lazy hand instead.

~X~

_Another failure…_Ivan thinks, sitting on a abandoned swing at a park that everyone had hastily abandoned when they'd seen the looming Russian.

He flips open the book, sighing. _How come these tactics don't work? _

The next thing that the book says is-

_Languages. Are you talented at speaking multiple languages? For example- _

_Jet'A ime-! Comme un F-_(Here a word was smudged)

_Comme une de cinem? _

_JET'A IME_

_JET'A IME_

_JET'A IME_

_Comme un lo_

_Comme_

"…Russian." Ivan says, smiling.

When he goes outside, the sun had disappeared, and rain was pouring down in buckets. He waits for a moment, debating within himself whether to call Alfred, or go see him himself.

But the book had said that a physical presence was the best…he'd better ask Toris if he knew where America was. He dials the smaller boy, shielding his phone from the rain with his scarf. \

"H-Hello?" Toris finally picks up on the fifth ring.

"Toris! I assume you know where America is, da?"

"um…"

"Da?"

"…Idon'tknowI'mnotreallythatfamiliarwithihim." Toris says in a rush..

"…..You don't know where America is?" There is a dark tone in Ivan's voice, and Toris has to bite his lip to keep a squeak from escaping.

"H-He's probably at home, playing video games.." Toris finally stutters, sounding scared out of his wits.

"Thank you, Toris!" Ivan smiles, even though the boy can't see him over the phone. He hangs up, heading towards America's house.

By the time he gets there, he is thoroughly soaked, but he rings the doorbell on America's house anyway, shivering slightly in the cold. A parting of blinds on the second floor, and a blond head pops out quickly, then retracts just as fast because it's _Russia _on his front door and he doesn't even have any pepper spray to prepare himself.

But he couldn't leave the man out in the cold…that would be unnecessarily cruel. With a sigh, he tromps down the stairs in his pajamas to open the door, hair wild and messy.

As soon as the door is opened, a blast of frigid cold hits him, and Alfred wonders how the hell Russia had coped without an umbrella. Well, he had his scarf.

Ivan smiles brightly, and walks in slightly, actually _asking for permission _to enter. And Alfred is so surprised by that that he can't do anything but open and close his mouth like an idiot. "C-come in." He finally says, backing away slightly. Ivan walks in, shaking some rain from his long coat, and Alfred backs away quickly, not wanting to get wet. "Just…leave your boots on the mat." He mumbles, escaping into the kitchen. "I'll make coffee."

"Your house is very nice, da?"

And Alfred can't help but beam with pride at the compliment as he tromps out of the kitchen, holding two cups of instant coffee. "Yes, yes."

As Alfred babbles on and on about the workings of the house-the window panels, the floor wood, Ivan calmly listens and smiles occasionally, secretly thinking of the best way to confess to America. "So…that's about it." Alfred runs a hand through his hair and sheepishly laughs. "So..do you want to play video games or something?"

"Can I call you Alfred, da?"

"….Sure?" Alfred ends the question with a question, because he's not sure what Russia is actually asking-it could be permission to-you know.

"Alfred…ty moy suet! Moya zvezda, noy vozlyoberynyy! Ya terya lyublyu! Poshaluystra, primate moi chuvsta, kraivyy!"

"No comprendo?" Alfred has honestly no idea whatsoever what Ivan just said, but whatever it was, it sounded threatening.

"…." And to his surprise, Ivan runs out of his house, hurriedly putting his boots on and slamming the door behind him, because the book had clearly said-

_After your confession, run! Run like the wind is after you! That will banish the awkwardness and make it easier for both of you! _

"….Now, one more step, da." Ivan says, panting slightly from running so much. He takes cover beneath a tree so that his book wouldn't get wet, squinting at the words.

_Finally. _

_If none of these have worked for you, you need the last maneuver. __**Tell his friend. **_

"…Friend, da?" Ivan muses, closing the book. He wasn't sure if it was wise to do more of these in one day, but he really didn't have any other choice now, did he?

_England. Arthur. Eyebrows. _

He dashes off, covering his head with his hand as he runs to find England's house. When he rings the doorbell, however, nobody answers, and he sees a note on the door saying-

"At Francis's house for fucking cooking lessons."

"…Ah." Ivan doesn't know where France's house is. He wanders around aimlessly for a moment, before bumping into someone. "Sorry-" He says on reflex, until he finds a large pair of eyes staring at him.

"N-No, it's my fault!" It was Matthew, holding his usual bear with him, glasses crooked. _This was America's friend. _"Tell Alfred I love him!" Ivan shouted, shaking Matthew by the shoulders. The boy's glasses fell off. "You will tell him, da? _Da?!_"

"Um-that is-" Matthew stares into the spot behind Ivan, and Ivan slowly turns around to see a gaping America, looking stupider than usual. "You-all this time-"

_The book didn't say what to do if this happened. God, he was screwed, wasn't he? _

"Will you…love me too?" Ivan awkwardly phrases; suddenly everything he knew in the book was forgotten.

"That is…" Alfred's face is hot, and he thinks in a flare of panic that he must be blushing-god, how that would look to Matthew…

"Oh. Okay." Ivan's face is collapsing; he got rejected, didn't he? And at that expression on Ivan's face, Alfred's resolve crumbles. "One date." He sighs, turning away.

"Da?" Is all Ivan can say, face morphing into a screen of delight. "You really didn't reject me, da? Da?"

"…Just come on." Is all America can mumble, handing him his umbrella, which they share as they walk down the rainy street together.

* * *

Extra-

Matthew-"Did they forget about me?"

Anyway….KLICKS I AM SO SORRY THIS TOOK 2 MONTHS TO WRITE-

Yes, she has been waiting for two months for this one-shot. …Congratulate her, everyone.

So, I just wanted to say…**it has been a year since I have watched Hetalia. Not all of the facts in here are correct. **

…Yeah. Thanks for reading!  
I hope you liked it!

K.K


End file.
